


A Proper Seduction

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:55:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26319778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: By MJ.Two young hobbits take a journey and discover what 'coming home' really means.
Relationships: Merry Brandybuck/Pippin Took
Kudos: 1
Collections: Least Expected





	A Proper Seduction

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: These characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and his heirs. I have merely borrowed them for these adventures and will never make a cent from them.  
>  Feedback: Would be wonderful!  
>  Story Notes: This follows immediately after [Bowled Over](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26319760). And if you look at a map, you'll see how far it really is from Brandy Hall to Frogmorton. So, don't look at a map.

"Come on, Merry! This is a very fine breeze!" A strong gust of wind caught Pippin in its grasp and shoved him up the side of the hill, hair and arms flying, while he laughed for the sheer joy of it all. 

Grinning at the bottom of the steep slope, Merry watched Pippin's spectacular flight while the scent of wild honeysuckle tickled his nose and the deep green grass made his own feet want to run. "If you aren't careful, you'll find yourself nose to nose with the nearest sparrow! And I refuse to climb any tree that has you in it!" 

Pippin laughed again, spinning in a circle at the top of the hill, his coatails whirling straight out from his waist. "I've found the Greenrill, Merry. For Greenrill Cottage! It makes me feel like shouting and we have yet to set foot inside!" 

"Well, it's getting dark and if you don't come down now, I'll never be able to find you and I shall have to live alone!" 

Pippin grabbed his coatails and shot back down the hill at a gallop, leaping the little stream at the bottom and almost bowling Merry over on the path. "Here I am, Master Brandybuck!" With these words, he promptly tripped and sat down, then stuck out his tongue at Merry's laughter. Attempts to haul him upright produced a happy bout of grabbing and wrestling before Pippin finally got to his feet in the deepening dusk. Then, still breathless, they picked up their bags and made their way up the little path and onto the rose-covered front porch. 

"At last!" Pippin dropped his pack and walked up to lean his head against the front door. They were both tired and not a little hungry, for it was a very long way from Brandy Hall and, despite the best of intentions to start early, they'd barely beaten the evening shadows to their new home ... 

* * *

"Another ten minutes is all we'll need, Merry. So put that ridiculous frown away and see to your knife and fork, my lad." 

Mrs. Hedgeway popped the new batch of sausage from the Upper Farm into a hot skillet. "You just listen to your young Took, Master Merry. Hurry is as hurry does, or so they say. And it's just a bite you'll need so's you can tell me what you think." She shoved the sausages around with a wooden fork, spreading the most wonderful aroma round the room. "Ned reckons it's the best he's made up this year." She smiled, her homely face aglow in the heat of the stove. 

Breakfast in the kitchen had seemed like a good idea when they'd waked up that morning. And on any other day, they would have been in and out and gone by now. But Mrs. Hedgeway had done something amazing with the pancakes. And then she'd found a jar of last Autumn's honey. And finally, she'd mentioned Ned's latest batch of sausage, which they must taste, of course, and discuss and fuss over before ever they got up from the table, and somehow, time just seemed to slip away. 

But the sausage was worth every minute. 

Then Merry had remembered, "I need to speak with Old Mallow about those new hives, the ones he wants to put in near the river. And we should go out to the greenhouses before we leave, for you have got see those hops you started last year. They're doing better than even _you_ expected!" 

As it turned out, the visit with Old Mallow took a good while, for he had a great many suggestions for handling the bees and more suggestions for the new fields being planted at that moment with the flowers for the summer honey. 

And then the visit to the greenhouses led to a long discussion about acres and fertilizer and crop yields. It is a well known fact that hops like to be kept happy, if one expects to have a fine enough beer to swap stories over and to say 'just fill us up again, if you please', more times than one can count. 

Then they must go back to their rooms and discuss what they would wear on their journey. But since that required a certain amount of bare skin between the picking and the choosing, it was rather late in the morning before they kissed parents and friends good-bye, saddled and packed the ponies (Merry on a very fine forest-bred chestnut, Pippin on his favorite high-tail mare out of Millbank Daisy) and set out for the Tookland, with the expectation of a night or two at Greenrill Cottage and a quick visit to Bag End. 

So it was after noon before they stopped for a late lunch at The Mug and Spoon in Whitfurrows, where more than enough still remained of a very large spread to satisfy even Pippin. Over some excellent pints, they talked of bees and honey, the breeding of their favorite ponies, and the establishment of Pippin's remarkable crop of hops. 

"I tell you, Merry, it will be tremendously fine! The land thereabouts is perfect. No one will believe the crop I could grow there..." 

Merry studied his cousin as they talked, his flushed face and overbright eyes. Pippin was still a bit young and his fears and insecurities about announcing their relationship to his parents were surely worrying him far more than was good. Remembering his own not inconsiderable fears, Merry knew that they could undermine the best of intentions. Hoping to nip this in the bud, he had called for one last pint... 

"Pippin, don't you think..." 

"And it's close enough to both our families to be more than practical..." 

"Pippin..." 

"There's enough acreage near the river for a good first crop. Anyway, enough to start brewing..." 

"Cousin, I don't..." 

Pippin tapped his finger on the table. "If those plants do what they ought to, two years from now, every house from the Bridge to Michel Delving will be swimming in beer like none they've ever had before. You mark my words!" 

"Cousin! Pudding! Cherry tart, listen!" Merry reached across the table and linked his warm fingers through Pippin's cold ones. "You are _not_ to worry about your parents or your Tookish relations or..., or anybody else! You and I shall do very well together, they'll see that." 

Pippin ran the fingers of his free hand through curls already frazzled by previous combings. "You don't know my father..." 

"Yes, I do..." Merry stopped for a second and blinked at a rather worrisome memory. "No. I mean, yes, I do know your father and he'll not beg you to do anything you don't wish to." 

"Oh, Merry. I wish I knew right now what he'll say. When he gets annoyed, he says the strangest things... And before we talk to him, we should have some idea of what we're going to do with ourselves." 

Merry laughed and wrapped Pippin's hands around a half-full mug. "I don't doubt that between the beer, the hives and the two of us, not to mention a herd of Millbank Daisy's best, we should be able to come up with a great many frightening things to see us through the next five years at least!" 

Pippin had laughed then and soon they were cantering up the East Road into a fine Autumn afternoon. 

* * *

Despite Great Aunt Fresythia's description, nothing could have prepared them for what they found upon reaching Greenrill Cottage. 

"Oh, Merry... It's wonderful!" 

Seated on their ponies under an arbor draped with honeysuckle, they had stared open-mouthed at the vision among the trees. It stood at the end of a narrow stone path, its front porch nearly hidden behind railings covered with rambler roses and wisteria, while remnants of forget-me-not and foxglove dozed among their roots. 

The front rooms of the cottage, done up in random pattern greystone, ran neatly back into the hill and at each of the corners stood a large tree. At the west was a large, pink cherry with thick branches spread wide against the late afternoon sun, while at the east, a stout rowan stood guard, its strong limbs sheltering the heavy thatch of the roof. 

From the traces of smoke rising in every chimney, they'd known that Mrs. Marshwood had made a visit and with high hearts, they'd ridden up the pebbled lane leading to the back of the cottage. 

"Do you think she's left us supper, Merry?" 

"Well, we shall just have to see, won't we?" 

And they'd laughed with wonder at their extraordinary luck, stabled the ponies and piled their bags on the porch before taking a turn around the grounds. It was Pippin who had spotted the little stream that gave its name to the cottage and gone running up the hill to find its origins. 

And now, it was time to find out exactly what they had. 

"Oh, Merry, Merry, Meriadoc, best of cousins, sweetest of lovers, may I let us in?" 

For here they were, finally, at their own front door, a brisk, windy evening at their backs and a promise of warmth and food and comfort just beyond the threshold. 

Merry silently handed over the key, his fingers trembling just a little. 

Pippin slipped it into the lock and turned it, pushing open the deep green door. "Ready?" He glanced back and saw that Merry hadn't moved from the edge of the porch. And that his expression had gone very peculiar. "Merry? What's wrong? Come on!" But Merry just stared at him in wide-eyed surprise. 

"Do you know what this is, Peregrin Took?" Merry was finding it very hard to breathe. His throat had squeezed nearly shut and he had to blink to keep Pippin in site. "Do you really know? This place. It's ours!" He blinked again and brushed away the tears with quick fingers. "Our home. You. And me." 

Pippin stood motionless in the doorway. All of a sudden, pinwheels were turning inside of him, each one whirling at a different speed. He forgot his wish to hurry inside, forgot all about how hungry he was. All he wanted was to be as close to Merry as possible. 

Merry used both hands to wipe his cheeks. "Have you gone deaf, you wicked Took?" The words stuttered out of his mouth. "Do you know what we have? Do you?" 

Pippin crossed the porch and slipped his arms under Merry's jacket, pulling him close. Touching the tips of their noses together, he whispered, "All I know is, I've got my very own Brandybuck and I'll never let him go." 

The kiss took them both by surprise and for a long time, all they could do was shiver and cling tightly to each other and try not to fall down. 

Merry broke away first, gasping, "Inside, Peregrin Took. I've things to say to you and I need to say them now." 

Pippin lowered his hands a little and pulled Merry closer. The tip of his tongue traced the edge of one delicate ear, before he laughed softly, "But what about supper..." 

"Supper can wait, you damn custard!" 

Merry whirled Pippin around and pulled his hands behind his back, scooting him across the porch and through the door, while Pippin gave up trying to catch his breath from laughing. 

"In you go, my lad." Letting go of Pippin's hands, Merry whirled him back around and shoved the door closed with his foot. "You're right, you know, you do have a Brandybuck." He ripped off his cravat and coat, tossing them on the nearest chair. "One who intends to find out what it will take to make you squeak, you great lump of a Took." He grinned and his voice dropped to a whisper. "Come here..." 

Pippin backed away, still laughing. "You'll never hear a Took squeak, cousin. Never!" With one quick glance at Merry, he strolled across the room to the fire, pulling his own tie off and tossing it on a low stool. "How about romantical, cousin? Or perhaps you'd rather seduce me..." He shrugged his coat off and tossed it on the stool with the tie. 

"Seduce you?" Merry came as close to growling as a hobbit could. Eyebrows raised in amazement, he threw his coat on the chair and joined Pippin in front of the fireplace. "If I remember correctly, it was you who seduced me first, in, of all places, the fifth best guest house, at the tail end of the Park. And as for romantical...," He slipped his fingers over Pippin's belt, pulled him closer and unbuttoned his waistcoat, teasing it off before reaching for the shirtcollar. "I'll show you romantical..." 

Angling his chin up, Pippin peered down at the warm hands busy under his chin. "Now, remember, you know all of my buttons better than I do, so there's no need to..." And then he couldn't seem to catch his breath. Merry's hands felt so warm and it was all he could do to whisper, "Just get right to the point, if you please." So Merry kissed him, hard, found his tongue and teased it so sweetly, Pippin thought he might melt away. 

They stood for a long moment, mouths locked together, holding each other as close as possible. Again, Merry came up for air first, shaking like an Autumn leaf. But his fingers made short work of the buttons and very soon, Pippin was wearing nothing more than the skin he had been born with. And Merry wanted so very badly to lick his way down to that delectable belly, but a very busy mouth was nibbling its way all around his face and down his neck and the rest of his clothes were disappearing faster than hot cheese pastries in front of Freddy Bolger. 

When the last scrap of clothing had given way to firelight and skin, Pippin began telling him stories with his hands, whispering between kisses of so many things yet to come, of laughter and lemon cremes and the salty taste of skin cradled wetly in the hollow of a collarbone. Merry laughed softly and let his fingers roam here and there, reclaiming all that was now his by right of their hearts. For a long sweet time of stroking and touching anyplace that felt good, nothing mattered but the delightful hysteria of what was to come. 

Pippin's mouth was so hot and so sweet, but Merry wanted to tell the end of the story. Burying his fingers in Pippin's backside, he pulled him close enough to feel a dribble of heat roll down his belly. "You know, if I walk a little and you walk a little..." He pushed his nose against Pippin's neck and breathed in the sharp, rich scent. "...we could find a bedroom before we can't walk at all." 

Pippin couldn't bear to let even an inch get between them, but Merry whispered so many wonderful promises in his ear, that before he quite knew what he was doing, they were in a different room with the best piece of furniture he'd yet seen. 

"Look, Merry, a bed..." Pippin gasped and sank into Merry's busy hands with a little cry. "If you don't stop... Oh, I'll never reach it!" 

Laughing deep in his throat, Merry twisted his fingers gently, swallowing the resulting groan with a kiss as he pushed Pippin slowly backward. "Yes, you will. See, it's right here..." 

And it was just the right distance from the door. Pippin was so amazed that he quite forgot how he came to be lying down. But then Merry filled his vision and covered him so completely, that the very question disappeared before it could properly be established. 

And then his body was filled with so many extraordinary sensations that it was not to be wondered at his forgetting what a question was at all. 

* * *

Some considerable time later, enough, in fact, to redecorate the cozy room with much of the bedclothes, Pippin suddenly remembered an important piece of unfinished business. He jerked his head up and looked down at Merry's flushed face. 

"Supper... We forgot about supper!" 

Merry inhaled just enough breath to groan, then sent both of his heels down a wavering path through the sweat on Pippin's back. "Oh, who cares about supper..." He grabbed the curls on both sides of Pippin's head and pulled him down for a most delicious kiss, guaranteeing that all thoughts of supper, breakfast and lunch would be forgotten, at least for that night. 

Breathing heavily, Pippin deepened the kiss a moment, then eased back to rub his face against Merry's shuddering chest, nipping and licking his way across the mound of his belly, down to the sweaty crease at his thigh. Gasping a little, he pushed his fingers into the little jar of sweetmallow on the nightstand, sending it tumbling to the floor. Kissing inside of Merry's thigh, he thrust slowly into his own slickly coated palm, inhaling deeply as a pungent fragrance filled the room, the scent mixing with everything that was Merry. Then carefully, with soft words and softer kisses, he snugged into the waiting warmth, hardly breathing as Merry arched up to meet him. 

"Oh, you...oh... you dearest of Tooks..." Merry sucked in a deep breath and wrapped his legs around Pippin's back, his head pushed back against the pillow. "Whatever am I going to do with you?" 

Pippin folded over until he was as close to Merry as he could get, then began to rock gently, deep within the haven of his body. He thought of warm molasses and Summer and the way a fresh pony felt on a cold, crisp morning, and smiled as he lapped the salty tears from Merry's cheek. "I shall write it all down, if you like." He pushed deeper, inhaling the soft cry with a kiss. "Or I can tell it to you... One day at a time..." 

End.


End file.
